


I Met You at the Train Station

by prompt_fills



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 15:13:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5210606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prompt_fills/pseuds/prompt_fills
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="https://football-kink.dreamwidth.org/">football kink</a>, PP1, <a href="https://football-kink.dreamwidth.org/1203.html?thread=62899#cmt62899"> for this prompt in which an anon asks for <b>an AU with a random meeting and an instant spark</b></a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Met You at the Train Station

“Damn, damn, damn,” Fernando chants, leaping up the stairs three at the time. He makes it on the platform just in time to see the taunting red taillights of his train disappear into the night.  
  
His chase cut short, Fernando takes off the duffel bag off his shoulder and lets it drop heavily to the ground. He leans forward, braces his hands on his thighs, chest heaving. The rucksack on his back feels like it weights a ton. He’s gotten terribly out of shape over the autumn break when he was healing his shoulder.  
  
Glancing up again, Fernando notes that the platform is quickly becoming deserted now that the train is gone. The last train that could have brought him home tonight. Now he’s stranded here, all alone. Well, there is just some guy talking on his phone, turning around in wild circles like he expects someone to jump him any moment. Actually, his movements are quite uncoordinated and wild so maybe he’s drunk. Fernando eyes him suspiciously. Young, tall and attractive, despite the atrocious beanie with Mickey-mouse like ears sticking out on the sides. Fernando realizes he’s still watching the guy rather creepily and forces his gaze away before the guy catches him staring. There is no one else on the platform beside Mr. Mickey.  
  
Fernando straightens up, kicking his bag for a good measure. He weights his options. The last bus that would bring him back to his aunt departed good fifteen minutes ago. He should call home and let his mum know that he can’t make it today after all. He should figure out where he’s going to stay overnight. He might just have enough money on him to book himself a room at the motel across the street from the station. There go his savings for the last minute Christmas shopping.  
  
Fernando gives his duffel bag another kick, with more gusto this time. The bag topples over and his training gear and his football spill out. The ball rolls over the platform, right up to the guy talking on his phone.  
  
The guy takes a notice, stills the ball with his foot, glances at Fernando and smiles. Fernando was fuming two seconds ago but now he’s just helplessly smiling back. The guy is still on the phone but his attention is focused on the ball at his feet. He slips his foot under the ball, lets it roll off, then snatches it up again. He’s quick and effective.  
  
Fernando makes to step closer and Mr. Mickey passes the ball back to him, easy and precise.  
  
Part of Fernando wants to show off as well but at the same time another part of him is frozen still. In the end he crouches down and quickly stuffs the rest of his things back into the duffel bag with shaking hands and cheeks flaming for no reason whatsoever. Fernando keeps his head low, mortified by his own reaction. He can feel the guy’s gaze burning holes into the back of his skull.  
  
“No, no trouble at all,” the guy sighs into the phone. He doesn’t sound drunk at all. “I get it, I get it. You have fun, okay? – Thanks, you too. – Bye.” He pockets his phone and walks the rest of the way to Fernando. Only now Fernando notices a bouquet of purple flowers he is holding in his hand.  
  
“Well, she’s not coming, I guess,” Fernando manages to say, pointing at the flowers. Fernando isn’t sure he’s ever seen that kind of flowers but then again he once managed to pluck out all mother’s precious mint when asked to weed the garden so he wouldn’t call himself an expert.  
  
The guy makes a face at the flowers. “Guess not.” He gives Fernando a searching look. “But I take it you’re not getting anywhere, either.”  
  
Fernando’s silence is answer enough.  
  
The guy offers him a warm, sympathetic smile. “Fucking trains, right?”  
  
“Yeah.” Fernando clears his throat. His voice is still embarrassingly high as he pipes up, “Cute beanie.”  
  
The guy grins but his shoulders hunch a little and he bits his lip. “It was a gift,” he explains, pulling the beanie off his head, tousling his shoulder-length hair in every direction.  
  
Fernando would swear his heart fucking flutters. The guy looks ravishing, like he just got out of bed. He is wrapped in thick black coat to keep himself warm against the chilly weather but Fernando would bet he is build.  
  
Fernando is horrified by his own thoughts. The guy is taken and Fernando is busy undressing him with his eyes. He feels his cheeks heat up again. He shakes his head. “Ah, a gift. I see.” Fernando has received a fair amount of presents he would have much rather never gotten. They mainly come from his great grandma but he can relate.  
  
“She was supposed to come today and stay over the weekend,” Mr. Mickey sighs remorsefully, making a vague gesture with his bouquet of flowers.  
  
Fernando hums his acknowledgement. “She wanted you to pick her up?”  
  
“Nah,” the guy takes out his phone, checking the time. “I wanted to surprise her. And help her with her bag.”  
  
“Well, I can provide that,” Fernando chuckles, pointing at his bag. The guy laughs and much to Fernando’s surprise, he bends over, picks the bag and slings it over his shoulder. He seems to hesitate for a moment but then he thrusts out his hand and offers the flowers to Fernando. “Here.”  
  
“Oh, you shouldn’t have.” He smells the flowers; they have no scent. Fernando nips one bud and plugs it into the guy’s messy hair. Mr. Mickey allows it with a wry smile on his lips and an curious tilt to his head. It sounds funny to call him that, so Fernando smiles and says, “I’m Fernando.”  
  
“Nice. Call me Sergio.” It seems like he is looking at Fernando’s lips but that’s probably just a trick of the poor light at the train station and Fernando’s wishful thinking.  
  
“Cool.” Much cooler than Mickey.  
  
Sergio adjusts the strap of Fernando’s bag on his shoulder. “So, um. Since my sister’s not coming and you’re not getting anywhere tonight, I suggest you join me. You can bunk on the couch or whatever.”  
  
“Your sister?” Fernando echoes, like that’s the most important part of what Sergio was saying.  
  
“Er, yes? I was hoping parents would let her come to visit me since it’s nearly Christmas but, well…” Sergio trails off.  
  
“You’re not going home for Christmas?” Fernando blurts, bewildered. “Why not?”  
  
Sergio looks uncomfortable. He brushes aside a lock of his hair that keeps getting into his eyes, dislodging the blossom in the process. “Well,” he catches the bud before it falls down, twirling it between his fingers, “my parents and I don’t get along.”  
  
“But it’s Christmas.”  
  
“Well. Yes,” he sighs and Fernando watches as his face turn into a grimace. Then Sergio’s expression clears. “That’s why my sister wanted to come over. I hardly get to see her anymore.” Sergio sticks the blossom back behind his ear.  
  
“That’s just sad,” Fernando frowns. “What–”  
  
“We planned a movie marathon and pizza, if that’s okay with you,” Sergio interrupts him quickly.  
  
Fernando peers at Sergio, trying to decide if the guy looks like a potential murderer or not. He looks a-okay. “Lead the way.”  
  
Sergio beams at him and doesn’t give him the duffel bag back to carry. Fernando’s sore shoulder is very thankful. “I’m glad you missed your train.”  
  
“Well,” Fernando chuckles, falling into step with Sergio, “the feeling’s mutual.”  
  
There will be other trains. But something tells Fernando there won’t be other Mr. Mickeys.


End file.
